From Here on Out
by allwaswell23
Summary: Post Battle, pics up in Gryffindor tower. Hermione & Ron laugh, cry, heal, and begin their relationship. NOT your typical "Yay, the war's over" piece. Ron is grieving which takes time.
1. Chapter 1

Ron and Hermione accompanied Harry from Dumbledore's Office to Gryffindor tower. After all they had been through the trio was delirious with sleep. Any remaining adrenaline they may have had left had been exhausted by the realization that Voldemort, Tom Riddle, was not living to see the morning sun. Their bodies could not yet feel their injuries; their brains could not yet compute their emotions. But it would all catch up in due time. Right now the three of them were acting upon their purest need, sleep. They stumbled through the common room which was, by some miracle, spared of major damage. Ron insisted that Hermione come with them to the boys' dormitory and she didn't have the strength to consider propriety. With all the eagerness they could muster, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the stone steps and pushed open the familiar wooden door. The inviting circular bedroom was a small glimpse of heaven.

Harry all but collapsed into his bed and into a deep sleep. Hermione walked to him, removed his glasses and pulled a sheet up over him. Pulling out her wand she drew the curtains closed around him and turned toward Ron. He had removed his shirt, exposing his already bruised back. He continued to disrobe, unfastening his pants and letting them fall lazily to the floor. Hermione took in the sight of him and his orange Chudley Cannons boxer-briefs. Ron opened the top drawer of his old dresser, still filled with clothes he never had time to remove. He pulled out a large scarlet t-shirt and handed it to Hermione. She took it from him silently. Still holding her wand, Hermione charmed Ron's bed to a bigger size, something more suitable for two seventeen-year-olds to be comfortable in. Ron sank into his bed and closed his eyes. Hermione could feel her own eyes closing involuntarily even while she was still standing. She quickly shed her sweaty, blood-stained clothing and replaced it with Ron's too-big shirt before crawling under the covers. With a flick of her wand she closed the curtains around Ron's now king-sized four-poster and instinctively placed it underneath the pillow. The last thing she remembered before succumbing to sleep was Ron pulling her weak frame onto his bare chest and squeezing her tightly.

Hermione heard small voices. Was this part of her dream or was her body telling her to wake up?

"How long have I been asleep?" She heard the familiar voice of Harry Potter coming from the bed to her right. There was something different to it, however. It was heavy with sleep, groggy with unawareness, and brimming with emotion.

"Nearly fourteen hours now," a voice answered. Hermione's eyes popped open and she was stunned to find her surroundings had not changed. The morning light she had expected to flood her vision did not come. Instead, as her eyes adjusted she noticed the soft flicker of firelight coming from the center of the room, just outside the curtains of Ron's bed. The other voice spoke to Harry again, "I brought you all some food." Hermione now recognized the soft voice of Ginny, only she sounded as if she had aged five years overnight.

Hermione's brain still existed somewhere between sleep and awake but her stomach roared at the mention of food. "You have to have a little something." Ginny insisted to Harry.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Harry asked. Hermione could hear the sudden desperation in his voice.

"I'm fine." She answered soothingly.

"And your family?" As she listened for Ginny's reply Hermione could not move, could not breathe. Her memories of yesterday's events came flooding back to her. She felt her toes go cold and her stomach silence itself as she remembered the Weasleys were now a family in mourning, a family of one less. Hermione turned toward Ron who, now sprawled on his stomach, still lay in a deep, silent sleep. She was grateful that he was able to experience this small retreat from real life. Hermione knew when he woke up he would be a much different person and she silently wished that he might somehow outsleep the coming days.

"Mum's not said much. Dad won't let me see George. The rest of us are, well…in one piece, I suppose."

"Take me to them?" Harry pleaded. Hermione heard no reply, only a few seconds of silence before Harry rose from his bed, his heavy footfalls masking Ginny's as the pair left the room. Hermione resumed breathing and the only noises left were the gentle cracks of the fire and Ron's steady snores. Hermione swung her body off the side of Ron's bed, allowing her feet to find the cold, wooden floor. They felt like huge bricks attached to legs whose muscles refused to even try to work. It took Hermione a few attempts to stand upright and when she finally extended her frame fully, she was met by a stunning headache that began in her temples and erupted down her spine. She opened the curtains of Ron's bed on her side and automatically reached for the plates of food that lay abandoned on Harry's bed.

Hermione had no idea what she was eating; her taste buds didn't seem to work. Her body forced her sore arms to lift the food and deposit it into her mouth. Her stomach filled quickly and Hermione began to inhale and exhale slowly to combat her mounting nausea. Suddenly she saw Fred's face in her mind, cold and lonely. He would be hungry too by now but she knew he'd never be able to eat again. He'd never be able to do anything again. Hermione felt a wave of grief and shame wash over her and she threw herself in the direction of the bathroom. Just as quickly as she had eaten the food, it had come back up on her and into the first of the boys' toilets. She flushed it down and wondered if it would end up splashing out of some broken pipe into the crippled castle. She lifted her still-throbbing head and walked to the nearest sink.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, taking in her pale face. Her eyes trailed down to her shirt which she didn't even remember putting on. It was Ron's old quidditch t-shirt. She missed seeing herself in Gryffindor red. The golden lion on the front was encircled by the words "Gryffindor Keeper". She turned around, peering over her shoulder to find "WEASLEY" emblazed on her back. She smiled at the fond memory of Ron looking so strapping in his uniform. The taste of vomit in her mouth drew her out of her daydream. She reached in the cabinet and grabbed hold of the nearest toothbrush, not caring who it once belonged to. She doused it in toothpaste and scrubbed her mouth clean. A repetitive dripping caught her attention as she swallowed a small sip of water. She turned toward the showers and immediately stripped off Ron's shirt. Hermione entered the shower, turned the knob and was surprised to find the water still working. She allowed the water to drench her, standing directly underneath the nozzle and swirling her head around until her fingers were pruney. Her hands reached for a bar of soap and Hermione felt some of the pain, anger, and fear wash away with the dirt. After a few minutes she turned the water off and grabbed a towel from the center rack, wrapping herself securely in it. She rung out her hair and listened to the sound of the escaping water splatter onto the red tile.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice rang out like a shotgun in the silent bathroom. Hermione jumped and nearly fell over. Ron spotted her just outside the showers, seemingly unaware of her appearance. She looked into his eyes and hardly recognized him. He looked…broken. Tears began flooding from his eyes as he closed the distance between them. She felt his large frame envelope her and slowly weigh them down to the floor. He was sobbing and Hermione knew this was the moment in which Ron's body was rested enough to meet his mind in anguish over his brother. The noises coming from him made her stomach sink and she began to cry as well. They sat there in a puddle just outside the shower, Ron in his boxers and Hermione in a towel, crying until there was nothing left to leak out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Hermione couldn't tell how long they sat there, huddled in a heaving mass on the cold tile that had long since dried. Before long her legs, being the part bearing most of their combined weight, began to tingle with invisible pin pricks. She felt Ron becoming heavy and knew he was on the verge of another round of much-needed sleep. Wordlessly she pushed against him, willing him to stand. She braced his frame and found her wobbly knees beneath her like a newborn lamb. Ron was conscious but unresponsive beyond taking baby steps out of the bathroom. She led him back into the empty bedroom and allowed him to fall back into his still oversized four-poster.

Reaching for her hidden wand she spoke for the first time in nearly a full day. "Aguamenti Reducto," and the last remaining bits of moisture were removed from Ron's boxer briefs. He reached a trembling hand toward her, shaking certainly from grief but also from the onset of early starvation. Hermione crossed to him and grasped his hand firmly. She looked into his blue eyes, now encased in a ring of anguished red, and felt an intense need radiating from him. "I'm right here." She whispered. She leaned in a placed a feather-light kiss on his forehead, followed by a second. Pulling back she watched his eyes slowly close and felt his arm became heavy in her hand. She pulled the covers up over him and shivered.

Still in a semi-wet towel, she charmed Ron's t-shirt toward her and changed quickly. Hermione retreated to the nearby windowsill, a stone nook separating the beds of her two best friends. She rubbed at her temples which had given birth to a new wave of headaches that pulsated her vision. In the acres below and beyond Gryffindor Tower Hermione could see dozens of people mending trees and grass. In the distance, where the Forbidden Forest met Hogwarts grounds, a row of small dirt piles lay neatly spaced. No doubt the final resting places for those who had no family to claim them.

The evening passed slowly into morning. The only event interrupting the silence was Ginny's return, arms full of fresh plates of food. Hermione hugged her tightly and did not want to let go. She marveled at how well Ginny seemed to be holding up. Hermione had never realized before the power Ginny's presence projected, and Hermione was enormously envious of the tall redhead. Encased in her friend's arms she wanted to confide in her, tell her that she feared she couldn't help Ron, to ask her what she should do for him. Hermione knew the answer. Everyone grieves differently. Ron was retreating, refueling his body while escaping reality even if only for a bit. Ginny, on the other hand, became a temporary head of the Weasley house, her biggest comfort coming from focusing on nourishing those still among the living.

Ginny asked about Ron and Hermione told her about what happened in the bathroom, still unsure if he had been fully awake or possibly lost somewhere between sleepwalk and insanity. She told Ginny how he said nothing more than her name and had yet to eat. That would be her first priority when he finally woke, to get him to eat something. Ginny told Hermione that there would be a funeral at the Burrow tomorrow and Hermione could only nod solemnly, dreading that coming moment more than any she had faced previously.


	3. Chapter 3

*I'm on a roll today, people. The juices are a flowin'.

Hermione began gathering food on a plate for Ron when she saw his hand instinctually claw for his wand. This morning ritual had become second nature to them over the last year. Do nothing until your wand was located, you never know when you may need it. She watched his fingers roamed over the soft sheets, searching but not finding. In a heartbeat his eyes burst open and he sat upward. Hermione saw his face crinkle in confusion as his vision battled against the blinding morning sun.

"Ron." She called in a whisper, not wanting to frighten him.

His head teetered a bit toward her voice and his hand flew up to cradle his head. "Dammit." He mumbled and looked as if he were recovering from a night of too much mead and ale. Hermione wished that were the case. She grabbed the tonic she had made and sat next to him.

"Drink this." He reached his hand out, his head remaining low. He downed the tonic in one gulp and within a few moments his breathing steadied and he was able to look into her eyes. Hermione was relieved beyond words to see a glimpse of the old Ron, her Ron in them. She gave him a weak smile, not entirely sure of what to say for once in her life.

"What time is it? How long have we been up here?" Ron cleared his voice as he spoke.

"It's nearly 11 a.m. We've been here a little longer than a day." Just as she suspected he might, Ron threw the covers off himself and rose from the bed, only to stagger on the spot. Hermione stood to steady him. She had been awake now for at least eight hours. It had taken several varieties of tonic and half a dozen charms but she had healed herself well and was feeling much stronger…physically, at least. She knew Ron would need help, he would need someone to help him. "Sit down, Ron. Let me bring you a few more tonics, alright? I've got something for you to eat as well." She tried to sound firm but inside she was terrified of what he might say to her.

"Where is everybody? Mum and Dad? Ginny? …George?" He stumbled a bit on his brother's name, which now hung heavily in the air.

Hermione looked up into his pleading eyes. "They're around, back and forth between the Burrow, helping take care of everyone, helping to clean up." She pushed against his bare chest, slightly causing him to sit back onto his bed. "Please, take some medicine and eat?"

He didn't want to, she could tell by his tense shoulders that he wanted to run to his family, to gauge how they were doing. Something in his expression told Hermione he'd also like to stay in this room forever. He nibbled at his food slowly. Hermione had never seen him act so nonchalantly around food before. "You look good." He said between bites, taking in her clean face, noting the color that had returned to her skin and cheeks. She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears. "How are you?" He continued.

"I might ask you the same question." Hermione countered, handing him a second tonic.

"I asked you first," Ron gulped down the contents of the cup without question and handed it back to her.

"Well, I'm well…I suppose." She lifted her arms to show him she had no bruises left. "I'm still taking it all in, I think." She watched as the remaining of Ron's bruises disappeared, seemingly sinking back into his body. Her tonic had worked perfectly. She dreaded asking this question but felt the conversation required it of her. "And you?" She willed her voice to remain steady, for the waiting tears to stay back.

He answered without hesitation, "I'm glad you're okay. I'm glad you're here with me." He pushed the plate of half-eaten sandwich away from him and stood back up heading toward the bathroom. "I'm going to shower. Will you…I mean, if you don't mind…" he searched for the right words.

"Ron. I'll be right here." She smiled for him and watched as he disappeared past the door. He returned later looking completely different, renewed, and Hermione drank in the sight of him. He was clean, his healthy skin looking brighter than she could recall in recent memory. He was already in his jeans and he began digging through his drawers for a shirt. Hermione studied the muscles on his back, his freckled shoulders stretching as he pulled in and out the drawers. For the first time since it happened she allowed her mind to bring herself back to their kiss. It seemed like weeks ago. Her lips began tingling as she recalled his lips moving across hers. She had never felt so much passion, never felt so right and she wanted to feel it again.

He lifted a shirt over his head and pulled it down, stepping into his shoes at the same time. He turned toward her and motioned for her to come near. He sat, once again on the edge of his bed, parting his legs and pulling her body in for a hug. Hermione's heart began to pump and she felt his head rest upon her chest like a small child. "Thank you for everything, Hermione." She didn't respond, only rubbed her hand in circles on his back. He placed his hands on her hips and guided her to sit on his leg. He looked up into her face, staring into her chocolate eyes. She felt him tense up once more, and could tell his mind was swimming with emotions. He broke their stare and brought her hand to his mouth, laying a trail of kisses from her wrist to her thumb. Hermione felt a tickle and saw a tear sliding down her forearm, an escapee from Ron. He smiled into her hand and looked up once more, seemingly once again in control of his emotions, although his eyes remained misty.

Ron cleared his throat and smiled at her and Hermione thought she could melt on the spot. "Sorry, I just didn't want to be crying when I did this…" he looked up at her hair and all around her face, as if trying to memorize her. His hands pushed her unruly curls behind her ears and found their way behind her head, pulling her mouth toward his. Hermione experienced a different kiss this time around. Less urgent, more tenderness. She swayed her fingertips over his broad shoulders as her lips reacted. She felt Ron's hand slide down to the small of her back in an attempt to steady her. Ron deepened the kiss and Hermione felt his tongue lapping at her lips. Although her eyes were closed, she felt them roll upward in amazement and she parted her lips, their tongues meeting for the first time. His taste was intoxicating. He eventually broke away from her lips and began placing kisses down her chin and to her collar bone. Hermione leaned into him and felt herself being lowered onto the bed, suddenly underneath Ron. She felt his weight pressing against her body and it was unlike any magic she'd felt before. He nibbled at her ear and she giggled against him, her fingers clawing at his side in response. She could feel him smiling into her neck, loving the response he brought out of her. He let his blue eyes travel over her body and she suddenly felt an insecurity rise. She knew he cared for her, but couldn't help but wonder about Ron's previous experiences with one Lavender Brown, the Gryffindor beauty who made a hobby out of snogging Ron senseless a few years back.

As if Ron was reading her mind he spoke, "Hermione, you are so beautiful. I'm so lucky to be able to kiss you." She couldn't believe how articulate his words were, how perfect his timing, as if they were the most natural thing he'd ever spoken.

"Why did you stop?" She asked, grinning back. She meant it to be playful but his answer was anything but.

He sighed. "Trust me, I'd love to stay here forever and kiss you over and over. But, we've got to see my family. And we've got to make a plan for rescuing yours, Hermione." She nodded and felt his forehead push against hers, both desperately quiet as if completing some sort of silent binding spell. "Hermione?" He asked before pulling back to meet her gaze.

"Hmmm?"

He seemed to once again search for words, "Can I kiss you whenever I want to now?" His question seemed small, almost silly but she knew he was asking for reassurance. He wanted to know that when they left this room, wherever they went, whatever they faced, they would do it together.

"Anytime." She smiled, and leaned in for one last kiss before they rose, hand in hand, and began the decent from Gryffindor tower. If none of this had ever happened, they would be leaving Hogwarts around now as graduates, ready to enter the adult world. As it was, Hermione was about to watch Ron face one of the worst moments in his life.


	4. Chapter 4

The pair walked around the castle for hours, taking in the damage and nodding at passing witches and wizards, each of whom seemed to be delighted to learn they were unscathed. Much of the major debris had been cleared up but a thin film of dirt and the smell of burning skin seemed to linger over everything. There were certain spots where they stopped and stood wordlessly. Their memories were in constant battle with their eyes, which now surveyed broken windows and burnt portraits. A large marble staircase, now cracked in many places, stood out to Hermione. She remembered crying on those steps after the Yule Ball, so frustrated with Ron. He sat with her just days ago on the same spot, crying over Fred.

They toured the library, or what was left of it. Hermione's heart broke a tiny bit more to see all of the books covering the ground and their pages gathering in a blustery corner. She took out her wand and began cleaning and stacking any book she could find. Ron helped her and together they worked silently to clear and rebuild, section by section. It wasn't much but it was a start, and that was what every surviving person needed at the moment, a start.

The next few days passed in much the same fashion; little talking and a lot of cleaning. Hermione could still see the hurt in Ron's eyes and she'd be lying if she said it didn't scare her. She had no idea how to help him or what to say that might ease his suffering. Instead she smiled when she saw him, stood near him when she could, and held him as he cried from time to time.

Days turned into weeks, Fred's funeral came and went, and eventually the trio left Gryffindor tower and settled back into the Burrow. That summer the wizarding world rebuilt itself from the ground up. As the weeks passed it got easier to smile, to laugh, and to relax. Hermione sense that Ron was beginning to feel whole again. There were many happy times and many difficult times. There were nights when they wouldn't say a word, only kiss until the sun came up. There were late night talks in the backyard, just Hermione and Ron looking up at the stars, discussing everything and nothing. There were moments when Ron would become suddenly silent, deep in thought. Sometimes he looked so broken Hermione was sure he'd never smile again. There were nights were she would hear him dissaparate to Fred's grave. From Ginny's window she could see his distant figure, acres away, bent over the stone tablet for hours and hours.

Ron and Hermione took some time to prepare things for the return of her parents. Hermione had to be sure their old house was secure and ready along with their business and cover stories. She and Ron had spent the whole day cleaning her house, which had been unoccupied for nearly a year and a half. She could tell Ron was having a bad day, and it didn't help that it had been thunder storming a good majority of it. He had hardly eaten and said no more than a few words in as many hours. Hermione never wanted to push him during these times but she was afraid he might be depressed. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked as she prepared dinner in her mother's newly clean kitchen.

"Hmmm?" Ron asked, nonchalantly.

"Do you want to talk about whatever it is you're feeling? I mean, I'm here for you. You don't need to keep it all inside." She could tell he was wracking his brain, struggling to decipher what it was, exactly, that he needed. Without words Ron grabbed her hand and led her into her bedroom. He pulled her into the large, pink bed and began kissing her passionately. Hermione held him tight and kissed him deeply. She felt his desperation. He pinned her hands above her head and kissed down her neck, over her throat and lower, until her shirt obstructed his lips. She gasped as he lifted it up over her head and tossed it onto the floor. His mouth found hers again and her insides exploded with sensation as his fingers caressed her skin, roaming over her breasts. Ron was kissing her with so much force she felt herself pushing him back so that she could catch her breath. She places light kisses on his muscular arms as her breathing steadied.

Ron's fingers danced up her legs, and over her thighs, dragging her jean skirt upward until her pink knickers appeared. He crouched over her knees, placing wet kisses on her thighs and his hands grasped at her hips. Hermione moaned in pleasure, her brain unable to compute any thoughts. Ron grasped her skirt and pulled it off, swiftly removing his own shirt in the process. He lay on top of her and Hermione gasped when she felt how excited he had become. He began nibbling on her neck and Hermione became caught between enjoyment and simply trying to keep up. "Ron?" Her voice was deep and breathy. He moaned deeply but otherwise didn't respond. One of his hands found the top of her bra and swept it aside, trying to permit his roaming mouth. His other hand found the top of her knickers and he began to slide them lower.

Hermione suddenly felt overwhelmed, unsure of how far Ron wanted to go just then. Everything felt too forceful, too harsh and she knew that wasn't who Ron really was. "Ron, please." The tone of her voice seemed to make Ron snap out of a trance. He pulled back to look into her eyes for the first time since they began kissing. He seemed suddenly much more aware. Hermione saw the tears well up in his eyes and he threw her arms around his neck as he began to sob.

"Shh. It's alright. It's alright." Hermione spoke soothingly and stroked his bare back.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…I just. Dammit. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Ron."

After a few minutes Ron wiggled out of her arms and sat up. Although she was still in her bra and panties, Ron's eyes never left hers. He pushed her hair from her face and wiped his remaining tears away. "Please forgive me. I'm such a prat. I'm still crazy over Fred, but I promise I'm getting better…you're making me better. But I know you deserve better than this…than me."

At this, Hermione sat up and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Don't ever say that again, Ronald Weasley. You didn't hurt me, everything is fine. Please don't think that I don't…want to. I want us to, it's just…not when you're hurting like this. You're the most brilliant man on the planet and you are what I want, okay? I promise." She hugged him, enjoying the sensation of her cheek on his chest.

He squeezed her tightly. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" She spoke, his heartbeat reverberating in her eardrum.

"I love you." He spoke it so simply yet it made Hermione's breath hitch.

She pulled back to look him in the eyes. "You…you love me?"

"I love you, so much." His eyes held so much conviction that Hermione burst into a huge grin.

"I love you too!" She kissed him full on the mouth and they embraced as if they'd never let go.

Not soon after, word got out that Harry was still a guest at the Burrow and news reporters began standing outside the house, guarding the boundaries of the yard, doing whatever they could to get a photo of the victorious trio, the team that had defeated Voldemort and saved the wizarding world. Molly Weasley seemed at her wits end trying to protect her family's privacy. Hermione even saw her sending a few jinxes at their cameras one evening after an outdoor picnic had been bombarded by uninvited guests.

One particular afternoon, Hermione and Ginny were swimming in the lake, a normally secluded location. As the girls were lounging about rafts a reporter with a camera and a quill popped through the bushes and began shouting questions. The pop of the camera startled Hermione so much she had yelped and flipped over into the water. "Ladies, do you feel your lives are in danger from Death Eaters who may still be at large? Can you give us a comment regarding the final moments of the Dark Lord's life? Ginevra, are you and Harry Potter linked romantically? Hermione, are you aware of the recent comments made by international quidditch star Viktor Krum and his claims that you and he have been involved? Ladies, please?"

Ron, overhearing the girls' screams and the splashing water, proceeded to calmly inform the man that if he trespassed again he'd be curse by half a dozen angry gingers. They had laughed about it at dinner that night, although Hermione's amusement ceased when the picture of her in her bikini ran on the front cover of Witch Weekly with a headline reading 'HERMIONE GRANGER – how she managed to snog War Heroes HARRY POTTER, RON WEASLEY AND Quidditch Superstar VIKTOR KRUM! We've got the proof!'

"I can't believe they can just pop in, take your picture, print it on the front page _with_ a ridiculous claim, no less, and not even ask me for approval!" Ron sat on his bed staring at the picture, a crooked smile on his face. "What is _that_ look for, Ronald?"

His smile grew bigger, although he tried to play it off. "Aw, well…" he ran his fingers through his hair. "You look bloody fantastic, Hermione."

"What? That is not the issue here! Wouldn't you agree that…wait, you really think so?" She couldn't help the blush that grew across her cheeks.

"Absolutely! In fact…" Ron ripped the cover off and charmed it to stick onto his wall above his bed. "Oh, just one little thing." Ron used his wand to scratch off Harry and Viktor's names from the headline. He grinned, leaning back onto the bed, his hand under his head gazing up at the picture.

Hermione chuckled, "Well I'm glad someone is enjoying it."

"Oh, I can guarantee there are loads of blokes enjoying it, probably too much." He smiled at her, motioning for her to come near. "But they better keep their distance if they know what good for 'em." Ron gathered her into his arms and pulled her on top of him. She leaned in to kiss him and she immediately felt her insides go warm. Ron had this amazing ability to calm and excited her nerves all at once. He pulled away from her kiss and slapped her butt playfully. "Come on, love. Time to go get your mum and dad."

Hermione squealed in delight and hopped off his bed, exiting the room in a flash.


End file.
